In Between
by PerennialChild
Summary: Chapter 3: They were doing what they were always doing, and that was fighting with each other.
1. And Sam Found the Pie

**In Between**

_A/N: Why post new stories when you can upload all your head canons and speculation into ONE convoluted story? It's all about convenience nowadays, and this is a convenience for me. I feel like such an innovator._

**Chapter 1: And Sam Found the Pie.**

Sam took heart from little things. Since almost before he could remember, after a particularly hard hunt, he'd often just sit and absorb the sound of Dean's off-key singing in the car, sit there and let himself be soothed with the sound of it. Dean could comfort with the offer of a beer, could calm frayed nerves and rekindle faith with a tilted smile and a small joke. By just being himself, really. And, since settling into their new home and with the start of the Trials, he'd even begun cooking for him. Incessantly. Sam was barely allowed to make his own coffee anymore.

So it was a huge deal that Dean just stumped off to bed after their argument on how to proceed after Crowley, and Sarah. No beer, no jokes, just a gruff _We'll figure this out tomorrow, _and a look like the world was falling down around his ears.

Sam had never felt so defeated.

It didn't help that he was starving, either, so when he was reasonably sure Dean had locked himself up for an extended stay in his bedroom, Sam crept to the kitchen, to see if maybe he could scrounge up some food Dean had missed before, or something. Honestly, he'd even eat centuries-old Men of Letters food storage at this point.

And that's where he found it. A white shopping bag, with some beer sitting next to it, positioned in the exact middle of the table. Opening it up, Sam was pleased to discover food, _food, _and even toiletries and other essentials. There were little notes too, in Cas' handwriting, a _For Sam _placed on top of the food items, and a _For Dean_ over a skin magazine. Sam rolled his eyes, and smiled when he noticed a mini boxed pie haphazardly squashed between a couple of bean cans. Dean hated miniature pies, called them traitors to their kind, but he supposed Cas tried.

Sam didn't dare cook anything, in case the smell alerted Dean, so he just opened one of the cans, started wolfing down the beans raw. It was still wonderful though, because he was beginning to feel hope stirring in his chest again. It was such a small thing, but it was always the small things that Sam looked for, tiny omens that things would turn out alright. Even if they surrendered to Crowley, just maybe, they'd be alright.

_Thanks, Cas, _he whispered to the air, hoping that his friend could hear. _Listen, you should come back soon, alright? I promise I won't let Dean kill you._


	2. And he Flew Away

_A/N: I've been hearing a lot of speculation about the 2014! verse being the subject of season 9, and wanted to play with that a bit._

How brutally ironic it was, that the moment Sam gained his wings, was the moment Castiel lost his.

The real reason Metatron had Castiel complete the trials, now made abundantly clear. And Sam's ongoing transformation and purification, now completed and apparent for what it was.

_Soul... I have a soul, _Castiel thought. He tried to take a step forward but collapsed, Dean only just catching him before his head hit the warehouse floor. _Good thing, _he thought blearily. _Can't heal concussions anymore... can't heal anything..._

He fought against the blackness threatening to overtake his vision, but he was weak, so unbearably weak, and he succumbed to unconsciousness, grew limp in Dean's arms.

_Grace... I have Grace. _Sam flexed his fingers wonderingly, watched his brother struggle with an unresponsive Castiel. How was it possible for them to look so small? His brother looked diminished somehow, tiny.

"SAM! A little help here?"

This miniature Dean was shouting at him, too. How ridiculous. And his eyes were wide, terrified, as if afraid of whatever Sam had just become.

_I'm still me. I'm still just Sam._ But he wasn't. He had just gone supernova in the middle of an abandoned warehouse-or was that light Cas' Grace? He wondered for a moment if that's what happened, if what Cas had torn out of himself just decided to take up residency in his chest.

But no. This was different, Sam knew it. This was what had been happening to him all along, as he'd been completing the Trials.

Dean was still yelling, voice climbing in volume and desperation, because Sam hadn't moved a muscle, hadn't said a word or given any indication that he was still _all there, _and Cas was injured, possibly dying, and for having closed the Gates of Heaven and Hell he sure didn't feel like he was winning anything.

Sam was just confused, by the fear on his brother's face, and the power now running in torrents through his veins, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last five minutes and unable to sort it out in his mind. He just wanted to get away, somewhere he could _think,_ and come up with a plan of action.

Without even really thinking about it, he managed to fly away.

"SAM!"


	3. And They Fought

Castiel had shown up, and they were arguing again. Strange, that pretty much the entirety of their relationship consisted of fighting each other and getting beaten bloody, and they managed to have a friendship at all, managed to call each other family.

Family, naturally, being the subject of their current argument.

Dean had hoped against all hope, after Naomi, that the angel would stick around and _listen _to him for once, but apparently he had learned diddly-squat since Purgatory, because he was pulling the exact same shit he had the first time. Running off, making deals now with an angel instead of a demon, and all around trying his damnedest to get himself killed, because he was too fucking stupid to listen to _Dean,_ who would have told him straight up what a stupid plan it was.Because he felt he had to go running off on his own. And it hurt, so much, to not be trusted to help by _Cas _of all people, the same guy he'd bent over backwards for, made every exception for, forgiven even when it didn't seem possible.

So of course he lashed out, and it felt justified.

But then the damn angel had to say it, that same line that'd nearly broken Dean the first time round, and it hurt no less now than it did then.

"I'm not your responsibility, Dean. I'm not Sam."

"Really, Cas? Tell me, who _else_ is going to keep you from screwing up? I think we both know that you're crap at making good decisions."

"If I fail at this, I won't destroy anything. There's no one who can be hurt by it other than me."

There was nothing nearby to punch but Cas, and that was a bad idea, so Dean just held in a scream and clenched his fists, stomping forcefully on the ground.

"Fuck, Cas. You're so wrong. You can't _get _any more wrong."

The only response he got was a minute narrowing of the eyes.

"You think we're family, right Cas? Because if you do, you have a helluva way of showing it. _Family, _Cas, takes care of _each other. Family _trusts each other, _family _ sticks together. You can't, can't keep going off on your own. You can't keep _preventing _me from _helping _you. It's. It's not fair."

Dean Winchester was _not _crying. It was already hot and humid with spring, and that was the only reason his face grew flushed. "Is it so hard to just _stay? _That's all I've been asking. The one thing I'm asking you, is it really so impossible?"

"Dean. I need to do this. It's the only way I can even try to begin to fix the wrong that I've done."

Dean shook his head. "You're leaving again. And you didn't even have the decency to tell me before I could have stopped it."


End file.
